Midsummer Opening Night
by itsbitterbaby
Summary: And that's when Sam had a really bad mental image... What happens when the Fellowship and associates put on a production of Midsummer Nights Dream? Only we can tell you!
1. Chapter 1

This was written by a me with a little help from my friends (okay, a looooooooooooooot of help) belle and emma. Infact, they wrote most of it, but, as it is on my site i can take credit - mwahahaha!

**Disclaimer:** We own nothing. :sniff: Well, ok, we do own some things. Just not LOTR or any of the characters. They belong to the mighty genius Tolkien. All hail Tolkien.

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The Isenguard Players

**Wanted:**

A cast of _26_ people of _all races_ to star in a presentation of _'A Midsummer Night's Dream'_ to be directed by _Saruman the Many Coloured_ and Performed in the _Smaug Memorial Theatre_.

All those interested _apply to Morgoth_ (Casting Director).

_Auditions to be held between the **25th** and the **30th** **January**._


	2. Chapter 2

The tall blonde-haired being slowly approached the notice and scratched his head thoughtfully. It was worth a try…

He stooped to face the mass of ginger hair some three feet below his eye level.

'This could be my big break!' The dwarf scrutinised the poster for some moments, a growing look of scepticism appearing on his face, before being quickly replaced by a deadpan expression as he realised that his general well-being could be in danger if he didn't phrase his words _very carefully_.

'Ye-es. Well, there's just one problem, laddy' The elf's eyes narrowed. The dwarf swallowed nervously. Why did he keep starting these things? 'Um, well, to be in a play, you have to be able to… well, to… you know… um…_act_!'

The look this comment received would have sent weaker dwarves than this one running for mummy. Luckily, Gimli was made of stronger stuff. For this reason, he was still close enough to the scene to witness his companion's unfortunate entanglement with a low-hanging branch, and the subsequent swearing thereof.

After a moment's hesitation, during which he weighed up the risks of the action he was about to take, Gimli approached the fallen elf, and hoisted him unceremoniously back into the vertical position favoured by numerous species, both in Middle Earth and other, less interesting worlds such as yours, human.

'Oof,' said Legolas, displaying the eloquence gifted to the elven race. A moment later, he followed this up with a dazed glare at his surroundings and 'Well, what are we waiting for?' Gimli, who was rapidly losing track of this conversation, frowned as he tried to remember what they had been talking about before…

'Oh, no.' Legolas glowered at him. 'Um, I mean, what _are _we waiting for?'


	3. Chapter 3

Two men strode regally up to a large sign taking up most of a nearby wall. They gazed thoughtfully at it and, after a few moments, a wide grin slid across each of their faces. They looked at each other with a gleam in their eyes.

'This could be a good chance to cause some havoc' said Aragorn.

Boromir paused for a moment, 'Hmm…small chance of getting through auditions… medium chance of making absolute fools of ourselves, large change of wreaking absolute mayhem, huge chance of really pissing off a load of short guys, and an oliphant-sized chance of making Saruman scream like a girl. I like it.'

'Well, I was going to say that that isn't a very acceptable way for a monarch to behave, but I like your idea better.'

'Thank you.'

'You're welcome.'

'What were we talking about?'

'No idea.'

The two men looked about them vaguely, mentally taking inventory of their surroundings. Tree, poster, Orcs… Orcs?

The two men reached for their swords and diaries, proceeding to make a note of the date of the auditions on their weapons, before running a few Orcs through with their recently sharpened diaries.

'With skills like that, Saruman will be begging us to act in his play.'

'Damn straight! So, what are we waiting for?'


	4. Chapter 4

Passing somewhere below the eye line of the average Middle Earth-dweller, a haggle of drunk gobbits – sorry, that's gaggle of hunky drobbits – or was it a droggle of gunk bobbits?

Anyway, several halflings rolled out of the Green Dragon public house.

(Whoa, what a night! Excuse me, I have to go and stick my head down a hobbit hole – preferably someone else's…)

Anyway, whatever they were, they came out of the pub and stumbled, tripped and generally staggered in the direction of their respective hobbit holes, despite the fact that they were separated from them by Bywater River, and thus likely to get wet. They got wet.

Having established the general wetness of their situation, they decided that this didn't really matter in the great scheme of things, and continued with their journey.

Before long it became evident that they were lost. Ever the one with a keen ability for making intelligent observations, Sam spoke up.

'We're lost.'

'I noticed,' growled Frodo. 'I'm just too drunk to care.' Unabashed, Sam decided to continue utilising his talent.

'There's a wall here,' he said, peeling himself away from it.

'Nice one,' said Pippin and Merry in perfect unison, rubbing sore noses.

'Ow, by dose,' said Frodo. 'Dat hurt!'

'There's a poster here too,' said Sam, on a roll now.

'Dat's really great,' said Frodo. 'Cad I wipe de blood ob by face wib id?'

'No,' replied Sam.

'I'b nod inderesded thed,' said Frodo, and he began a dramatic exit in the direction (he hoped) of home. It would have worked, had a tree not decided to grow where it had. It was, in Frodo's opinion, very unreasonable of it.

'Sdupid tree,'

'Getting back to this poster…'

'Whad about by dose?'

'Never mind your nose…'

'Well, excuse be, but I hab to. Id's by dose!'

'Tough!' Frodo began to reply, possibly sarcastically, but it was a little hard to tell. Whatever it was, it was lost as Merry, bored with the way the conversation was going and looking to try something new and exciting, thought it might be fun to smother him.


	5. Chapter 5

Hi there! This is Belle. Elin and I have spent all DAY writing this BY OURSELVES. This is irritating, because it's actually a very short chapter, considering. However, what really bugs us (Both start to snarl) is that our CO-WRITER forgot to show up. We are mmaaaaaaad. Especially since she was entrusted with our valuable cast list and other preparation material. We are not pleased --

Anyways, R&R. Please!

**Disclaimer:** There is a song in this chapter. We don't own it. If we did, I can tell you now that we would not be sitting here writing these deranged ramblings. Thank you.

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Ten o'clock in the Smaug Memorial Theatre, and things were heating up. Literally. There's nothing like a bunch of adrenaline-filled amateurs – sorry, _actors_ – going to their first audition to warm up a room. As Morgoth took his place in the centre of the judging panel – fashionably late as always – he glanced to his left to see Saruman drooling slightly and murmuring things about 'great power'. He rolled his eyes and looked to his right, where Ringwraith No. 5 was sitting examining his nails. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously to Morgoth like 'None of these morons has the X Factor.' He did a double take.

Nails?

X Factor?

'Excuse me?' The Ringwraith looked up – at least, he assumed that was what it was doing. It was kind of hard to tell, what with the black cloak of doom and all.

'Uh…. Never mind,' it hissed, with a remarkably good English accent.

Shaking his head and trying to ignore the Ringwraith's continued mutterings, he turned to face the array of talentless beings assembled in one of the wings. He sighed. This was going to be a long day.

With one last, desperate plea to the Dark Lord for the strength not to destroy the lot of them, he reluctantly summoned the first applicant.

'OK, who's first?'

There was a slight scuffle backstage before a small figure crawled forward, hissing something about nasssssty hobbitsesss. Morgoth sighed. He had been wrong. This was going to be a veeeerrrrrry long day.

'So,' he checked his clipboard. 'Smeagol…'

'Gollum.'

'Bless you.'

The creature narrowed its eyes to slits, but said nothing. Morgoth pressed on.

'OK, so, who did you want to play?'

The creature fixed him with a steely gaze.

'Lysssssander, precioussss.' he replied.

Morgoth groaned inwardly. First Saruman drooling all over the table, now this. He looked at the Ringwraith for support. It was still muttering.

'I assume you have prepared a piece for us?'

Gollum stared back at him, blankly.

'Some lines you can recite, or a poem or…' he trailed off.

'Make him sing,' hissed Ringwraith No.5.'

Morgoth glanced sceptically from Gollum to the cloaked figure on his right. Neither of them even blinked. Not that he could actually tell with the Ringwraith, but… He was about to protest, but then Gollum spoke.

'OK, preciousssss, I will sing for you…'

'Oh, my…' muttered Legolas.

'_I'm too sexy for my loin cloth _

_Too sexy for my loin cloth  
So sexy it hurts  
And I'm too sexy for middle earth _

_Too sexy for middle earth  
Rohan and Gondor _

And I'm too sexy for your play  
Too sexy for your play  
No way I'm onstage acting!'

'Good,' muttered the Ringwraith.

_'I'm a model, you know what I mean  
And I do my little turn on the catwalk  
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah  
I do my little turn on the catwalk _

I'm too sexy for my ring

_Too sexy for my ring  
Far too sexy for that thing  
And I'm too sexy for my cat  
Too sexy for my cat _

_What do you think about that?'  
_

Morgoth blinked. Cat?

_  
'I'm a model you know what I mean  
And I do my little turn on the catwalk  
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah  
I shake my little tush on the catwalk'_

Sam groaned, bending over on his seat in the queue. 'Bad mental image… really bad….'

_'I'm too sexy for my cat too sexy for my cat  
Poor pussy poor pussy cat'_

Morgoth sighed. Again with the cat?

'_I'm too sexy for my ring_

_Too sexy for my ring  
Ring's going to leave me_

_And I'm too sexy for this song'_

'Damn straight,' muttered Aragorn, glancing up from his sword. He hoped he'd be able to fit this in before his 11 o'clock fencing session.

Morgoth winced. The Ringwraith muttered. Saruman drooled.

'NEXT!'

Gollum scowled.

'They didn't like our performance, precioussssss. We'll show them, yessss, we'll show them….Oh.' He looked up. 'By the way, precioussessss, has any one ssseen a gold ring? Only…. I lossst my birthday pressssent…..'

'NEXT!' howled the Ringwraith. 'What the hell was that? Awful, you had no feeling, no depth… it was like listening to a drunk corpse howling along to Celine Dion!'

Gollum slinked out, muttering about nassssty wraithsesssss as everyone else turned to stare at the Black Rider, who resumed the examination of his fingernails. The whole room frowned this time. Nails?

There was a slight pause.

Celine Dion?


End file.
